A Shadow of Unlikeliness
by unavoidable-k
Summary: When One is plagued by strange, foreboding nightmares, he's confronted by Six, who suspects that a new entity threatens their lives, but his lack of visions are proving to be a hindrance. Together, the two pair up to discover just what this strange entity is, and why it's targeting them. 1x2, 6x8, 5x9
1. Chapter 1

The dark tones of dusk were settling nicely over the sky as the timepiece that hung in the workshop struck 8 'o clock.

Five exhaled deeply, with a fond smile, as he looked down at his work.

It was a very small toy music box, with a manual handle, almost the perfect size for a stitchpunk. Nine had found it out in the emptiness, buried under piles of rubble and other debris. Nine, not knowing what it actually was, decided to bring it back to the workshop, only for Two to happily inform him that it was a music box and, if you wound the handle, it would play music, provided it worked properly.

Of course, like most things out in the emptiness, it didn't, which was why it needed some minor adjustments and alterations. It wasn't too hard, thankfully, as it was quite a simple piece of machinery, and Five was happy to fix it up alone, while Two worked on something else. It wasn't often he got to do his own work.

Two glanced over at him from the bench and, seeing that Five had finished, hopped down from his stool.

"You've finished it?" He asked, leaning over to inspect the stitchpunks work. Five shrugged, smiling shyly. "Well, we'll have to see if it works first." He said, gazing at the music box with pride. Two patted his shoulder in an impatient manner. "Well, what are you waiting for? Play it!"

And play it, Five did. He slowly, experimentally, cranked the handle and, much to his excitement, a sweet melody began to emanate from the small box. He could hear Two make a noise of excitement from behind him, and he beamed. It worked!

"Well done! I must say, I'm very proud of you." He said, kindly. Five flushed slightly, picking up the music box and pushing it onto a shelf above the workbench. "T-Thanks. I guess I did learn from the best!" He replied, with a joking grin. Two rolled his optics, giving him a playful smack on the shoulder.

It was then, that One shifted the workshop's curtain aside, peering into the dimly lit space. Both Two and Five's optics instinctively glanced to the timepiece on the wall. Usually, the only reason One ever came into the workshop, was to berate Two for working so late. His face, however, didn't hold the usual expression of distaste or annoyance. He actually looked quite neutral.

"Shouldn't you be finishing up?" He asked Two, eyeing the work on the bench. Two inspected his own project, debating on whether or not he wanted to stay up. He ended up giving a tired sigh, and a small smile.

"I suppose I could retire now." He said, almost shyly, and Five had to stop himself from covering his mouth with his hand. One looked...somewhat pleased by this decision, as he nodded approvingly, and left the workshop.

Five really wanted to talk about how close those two had become lately, but he was worried One would still be in earshot, and he'd had a few bad experiences with One overhearing something that he clearly wasn't meant to hear.

"I suppose I should head to bed too. Do you want any help tomorrow?" He asked, as the pair stepped out of the workshop, turning off the string of lights that illuminated the space. Two reached up to pull the curtain further over the entrance as he thought about it.

"Mm...I think I'll be okay. Do you think you could check on Six before you go to bed? I keep waking up at night to find him drawing or wandering around." Two expression showed concern, and Five nodded. "I can do that. Well...goodnight!"

"Goodnight!"

And with that, they went in opposite directions. Luckily, Five's bedroom was in the general direction of Six's, so it wasn't too much trouble to drop in and check on him.

* * *

Five, Six, Seven and Nine's rooms were all in a straight line, between a particularly large bookshelf, and the inside of the wall on the rightmost corridor leading away from the main hall in the library. One, Two and Eight's was on the leftmost corridor, while the twins had their own cubby in the main part.

The library itself was far too big for just them; it actually felt rather lonely to have the whole building to themselves, but they managed to create small rooms for them within the walls and the shelves of the buildings. The enclosed space felt more homely to them; more their size.

Six's room was probably the biggest out of all of them; big enough to store his multitude of artworks and scribbles. Five gently pushed aside the curtain, which Six had decorated with swirling patterns and a big '6' with ink, and peered into the room.

Six was sat up, in the middle of the room, which was both to be expected, and slightly eerie. He wasn't drawing; there was no paper to be seen. He was just...sat there. Doing nothing. Five debated on whether or not to open his mouth.

"Six...are you okay?" He asked, timidly. Six paused, before looking up. He looked confused about something.

"We're all heading to bed. You should think about getting some sleep as well." He said, carefully, not wanting to upset the artist. Six didn't even seem remotely fazed. He nodded quietly, padding softly towards his mattress.

"Six, are you sure you're okay?" The healer asked, concernedly. Six paused again, and shrugged, before looking up at the healer with wide eyes.

"Something...doesn't feel right." He said, finally. "Something feels off. Something bad is going to happen. I don't like it!" He said, his voice now becoming louder. Five winced. It wasn't normal for Six to get so worked up. Something must really be wrong.

"Can it wait til the morning?" Five asked, stifling a yawn. He hadn't realised how hard he'd been working until it suddenly caught up with him. Six looked down at his lap with worry. "I'm not sure..." He said, truthfully, before looking up at the older stitchpunk. "But I can wake you up if it gets bad!" He said, with a nod. Five smiled, fondly.

"Alright, you do that. I'll be next door, okay? Goodnight, Six." He said, softly, before heading next door, leaving Six alone in the darkness of his own room. Six turned his head to gaze out of the small hole in the wall that acted as a window.

Something bad was soon to come. He knew it. He could feel it.

He reluctantly lay down on the springy mattress, pulling the thin blanket over his frame and settling down. He didn't really want to sleep, but for Five, he'd do it. He knew Five and Two always held a strong sense of concern for him, and he felt guilty to make them so worried. Just once in a while, he'd do as they say, to ease their worry.

But something bad was lurking in the distance. It was such a horribly off-putting feeling; especially since he knew next to nothing about it. There were no visions, no nightmares, no nothing. Without those, he felt virtually useless. He had to warn the others, but what about?

He couldn't sleep like this.

He bolted upright, with a frown, before climbing out of bed and padding towards the door. He gingerly poked his head out from behind the curtain, to check if anybody was still lurking around. Sure as Five had said, everybody had gone to bed, leaving him as the only one awake. What to do, he didn't know, but he felt horribly restless, and he couldn't sleep like that. Maybe just a short walk would do.

He slipped stealthily out of his room, and began heading down the corridor towards the main room in the library, where the twins kept their stacks of books. The bright moonlight shone down through the giant window that overlooked the room, giving it an eerie glow.

Usually, the dark would be terrifying to Six. All sorts of nasty things lurked in the darkness, waiting to jump out and do something horrible, but tonight, the darkness offered a strange solace that Six had never really felt before. He wouldn't admit it to anybody, but his corner back in the sanctuary felt more homely to him than here. Of course, the sanctuary had it's downsides, such as the restricting rules (which never really applied to Six, so he didn't care) and the fact nobody really gave him the time of day, but it was still his home.

He had tried many times to recreate his corner here in the library, but to no avail. It never really felt like home and he so desperately wanted this place to feel like home, but he knew it probably wouldn't and if it did, it would take a very long time. That, he felt, was the one thing he had in common with One.

They'd never really bonded over their mutual homesickness, and Six wondered if it was ever a good idea. His past encounters with One had not been entirely...pleasant, but that didn't stop him from finding One an interesting character.

He sat down on a rather hefty, leather-backed book, right in the path of the moonlight, and gazed up at the window. Something was coming, but he just didn't know what. The horrible, empty feeling of helplessness began to settle in his stomach, and he knew that the paranoia would set in in a few days.

A horrid shiver traversed through his metal skeleton, as a very faint, but very distinct, shuffling noise sounded from the other side of the room. Six's head whipped around so fast his key got caught around his neck and he stumbled off away from the book. He wanted to call out who's there, but in any scary situation, that would be unwise.

"You're still up?"

And this appeared to be the scariest situation of them all.

* * *

Six would've gladly welcomed the most terrifying of beasts, and the most horrid of monsters, but no. Instead, he was face to face with his very own leader, who had the sharpest tongue he had ever seen.

Six shuddered slightly, gripping his key with his ink-stained hands in an instinctive manner. One's face seemed to relax when Six backed away, possibly out of guilt.

"I...couldn't sleep." Six replied, uncertainly. Six was generally nonverbal by nature, but ignoring the leader's question would cause unnecessary trouble. One eyed him, almost suspiciously, but his face fell into an expression of uncharacteristic tiredness.

"I could say the same for myself." He admitted, before taking a seat on the book Six had previously occupied. In the light of the moon, Six could now see the leader did look positively exhausted. It didn't look like mere tiredness, the kind you get from going to bed a little too late. It looked like full insomnia, something Six, himself, was quite familiar with.

Six cautiously took a seat beside One, gazing at the older stitchpunk curiously. He'd half expected One to snap at him for staring, but to his surprise, he said nothing. He merely put his head in his mismatched hands, and sighed. Six watched him, sympathetically.

"Why can't you sleep?" He asked, kindly. Even with his head in his hands, he could sense One was quite taken aback by his question. One raised his head slowly, and looked Six dead in his mismatched optics. Six knew the chance of One actually responding to his question truthfully, was slim, but again, to his surprise, he answered quite honestly.

"Mm...well, I've been getting these horrid nightmares." He responded, truthfully. This immediately piqued the artists' curiosity, as nightmares were generally his area of expertise. He knew about the countless types of nightmares and terrors that could plague the unconscious mind, having experienced most of them himself. He wondered what these nightmares could be about.

"What about?"

One looked hesitant to explain, but he knew that if there was anybody who could help, it was most likely Six.

"I'm...not sure. I keep seeing this strange creature and it's honestly haunting. In the dreams I suppose I just go about my day like normal, but this blasted creature always appears in the shadows and...it often takes one of us away." His voice was barely above a whisper now, and Six felt a strange tingling feeling in his soul. This almost felt like deja vu.

"What's the creature? What does it look like?" He asked, out of pure curiosity. One winced slightly, but explained anyway.

"It's a...strange looking thing. Almost mechanical; cogs and gears and springs and whatnot, but that doesn't look like what's holding it together. It looks like some kind of moving shadow. A giant kind of blob-like shadow. I'm surprised you haven't seen it yourself." He remarked, dryly, and Six shook his head very slowly.

"No...I haven't."

And perhaps, that was the problem.

* * *

After doing a past story, I think I liked the idea of a 1x6 friendship a whole lot. Thus, this story was born. Requests are very much welcome. Feel free to PM me, yeah? (Translations are also very welcome :I)


	2. Chapter 2

After a short while, discussing nightmares, Six and One had retreated to their own rooms, at either ends of the library. Six was left to ponder One's nightmare.

It was odd, to say the least. Well, having nightmares after a particularly traumatic experience certainly wasn't odd, but these seemed to come out of nowhere. It sounded like One could've been describing the machine, but then again, One would obviously know if it were the machine or not. And apparently, it wasn't.

The first thing to jump to Six's mind was, what if this was what was hunting them? He hadn't had any dreams or visions as of late, and it was giving him nothing to go on. Perhaps One's nightmare was a vision in itself?

It seemed unlikely. After all, One never believed in Six's visions, merely dismissing him and dubbing him 'crazy'. One was the least mentally incapable one of them all, yet he was the one with sudden, recurring nightmares. Six wasn't quite sure what to think. He rolled onto his side, facing the wall, away from the door.

If he still hadn't had a vision, or a dream, or anything in the next week, then he would talk to One about it. But...a week seemed too late. What if it came tomorrow...or the day after? Six bolted upright, frustration evident on his face.

This was hopeless. He had absolutely nothing to go on. What was he supposed to do?

He flopped back down onto the bed with a groan. There was no point worrying about it this late at night. He'd have to wait until tomorrow to formulate a proper plan.

And with that, Six forced his optics shut, in an attempt to get some sleep...

* * *

When One awoke that morning, he was somewhat pleased his slumber hadn't been interrupted by yet another nightmare. These were becoming far too much to handle. Honestly, how did Six manage for all these years?

He shifted his legs over the side of his bed, and sat there for a while. He couldn't let these nightmares go on for any longer. He was slowly becoming sleep-deprived and even more paranoid than normal. It was admittedly nice to talk to Six last night, especially since he'd understand more than anybody, but that wasn't helping with the immediate problem. He needed these nightmares to stop and he needed them to stop now.

As a secondary instinct, his mind flickered on the thought of Two. Usually, whenever there was a problem, ninety percent of the time, it could be fixed by Two and if not, then he'd still be invaluably helpful.

One sighed, resting his head in his hands.

He didn't know what was more frustrating. The nightmares, or the fact he kept immediately thinking of Two. Could he really request the inventor's help? He had practically abandoned him, when he'd been kidnapped by the Cat Beast, after all.

One winced at the thought, remembering Two's less-than-happy expression when Nine had offhandedly mentioned the leader's cowardly actions. He admitted, it was a horrible decision on his part, but he genuinely did have the other's safety in mind.

Or at least...he thought he had.

He wondered if Two was still mad at him for it. The two did talk once in a while (it was One's self-appointed job to send Two to bed when it got far too late) but he wondered if the inventor was purely being polite.

He decided not, and raised his aching body from the bed, before mentally planning a route to the workshop. He was going to overcome this obstacle of awkwardness. For the sake of his nightmares, anyway.

He purposely pushed any thoughts regarding arguments to the back of his mind.

The route there took a little bit longer than it normally would, as One felt the urge to avoid absolutely anybody and everybody that morning. He wasn't in the mood for idle chitchat, or conversation of any kind. He needed a proper night of sleep.

Luckily, he'd arrived at the workshop without any interruption of any kind. He lingered outside the door for a few minutes. Was this really a good idea? Would Two even help him? He knew he was the last person who deserved help but...

He wasn't sure if he could live with these nightmares any longer.

He cautiously pushed aside the curtain and peered inside. Two was, indeed, inside and, to his secret delight, Five wasn't there.

Not to get him wrong, Five was a perfectly nice person but he'd rather nobody else was around. He wanted as little people to know about this as humanly possible.

Two had glanced to the side to see who had appeared, but he ended up doing a double-take, clearly not expecting it to be One. One almost felt embarrassed by this, and his metaphorical stomach felt cold and heavy.

"O-One. I didn't expect to see you here so early." He said quietly, placing the tool he was previously using onto the workbench. One stared down at his feet, wringing his hands behind his back. This was not the most ideal of circumstances, but he really couldn't be dealing with the nightmares any longer.

He wasn't sure if he had a choice.

"I've been having trouble with...nightmares." He finished lamely, and his eyes darted up momentarily to catch a glimpse of Two's reaction. Two looked visibly surprised, and who could blame him? This was One they were talking about. His mentality was built like a brick shit-house. Well...assumedly, anyway.

"What kind of nightmares?" Two's surprise was short-lived as his healer instincts kicked in suddenly and One felt like smirking. Of course, he had, for lack of a better term, abandoned Two in the past, but Two was far, far above revenge, or even holding a grudge. Sure, he wasn't obliged, and possibly didn't even feel compelled to forgive him, but if somebody was suffering, he'd jump to help, no matter who they were. That's just how he was.

One almost envied him for it.

"Mm, well it's a series of recurring nightmares. It starts off fine, just going about my day, but this strange creature always appears towards the end and carries one of us off. I'm sure it doesn't sound scary, but when it appears every time I close my eyes...well I'm sure you understand my concern."

Two looked deep in thought, almost grave. "I see..." He muttered. "And this nightmare occurs every time you go to bed?"

One nodded. "It does."

"Well I must be honest with you, I'm not quite sure I can do anything for it. I suppose it could be a subconscious manifestation of a previous trauma. Is it the machine?"

One shook his head confidently. "Not at all. It's a completely different machine. A little smaller, I think. It's made up of mechanical parts, but it looks like it's held together by something else. Something like a shadow." He explained, leaning against the wall beside the curtain. Two nodded slowly.

"I see. Have you tried talking to Six? He seems to be the most knowledgeable when it comes to nightmares and those kinds of things." Two offered, kindly. One gave a sort of half-shrug.

"I already spoke to him last night. We were both having trouble sleeping."

Two's expression dropped into another one of deep thought. "I see...well I'm not sure what I can do for you. You could try sleeping with somebody."

"Excuse me?"

"N-No, not like that! I didn't mean it like that. I meant just sleeping in the same bed with somebody. It might make you feel a little bit safer." He explained, looking a little bit `flustered, and One wanted to crack a smile if the suggestion wasn't so unappealing.

"I'd really rather not. It's not exactly a comforting situation for me." He grumbled, fiddling absentmindedly with the bolts on his knuckles. Two let out a sigh.

"Well, we used to share a...well it wasn't exactly a bed, it was more of a sack, but you know what I mean. What would be different about it?" He smiled gently, and One felt a surge of annoyance because seriously, he was being far too nice about this.

"That was different. We were..."

He stopped suddenly. He wanted to say 'friends' or something to that effect, but that wouldn't sound right. What did he want to say? What were they now?

"...we were different." He finished, quietly, and Two looked downcast because he had clearly figured out that it was not what One had intended to say. It wasn't like One was lying to him, because they were different back then. Their relationship was different. He was just being purposely vague about it.

Two clearly knew this. He felt something akin to guilt in his soul and the two shared an awkward moment.

...

"I'll consider it." One said, finally, and Two smiled weakly.

"Good, good."

* * *

if you've read most of my stories you'd know i am completely, utterly and irredeemably weak for 1x2 but i promise i'll try not to make it so heavy.

key word: try


	3. Chapter 3

One left Two's workshop feeling exactly the same as he had before, which was unhelpful to the highest degree, although Two had offered to spend the night with him to see if that would improve his now horrible sleeping patterns.

He sighed lowly, rubbing his temples with a frown. He wanted them to stop, really he did, but there was just no clear way to do that. If somebody offered him pills and claimed they'd stop the nightmares (and maybe stop his heart in the process) he's jump at that chance in a heartbeat (or, lack of one). But no. He was surrounded by vague possibilities that didn't sound like they'd do any good.

...

Maybe seeing Six was a good idea. He'd told him about the nightmares the night before, but perhaps asking him how he coped was a better idea. As long as his response wasn't 'drawing' anyway.

So, as One drifted towards Six's room, he ran through a kind of practice conversation in his mind, but really there was no point, especially with Six, who was unpredictable in almost every aspect of the word. Damn it.

Six was, in fact, in his room, but he looked...strange. He wasn't sprawled across the floor, covered in fresh ink stains, like he normally was, nor was he curled up in bed, attempting to get just a tiny bit more sleep that would inevitable never happen.

He was kneeling on his bed, with his head poking out of what was supposedly a window. Six was clearly unaware of One's presence and One decided to temporarily keep it that way, to see what Six was doing. What was he doing?

He was muttering to himself, which One admittedly did as well, and scanning the horizon for something, by the looks of it, which was a little strange, he looked fairly distracted last night as well. Was he looking for something?

"What are you doing?"

Six jumped suddenly, whirling around so fast he nearly fell from the bed. If One didn't know any better, he'd think Six was hiding something. One of the stitchpunks hiding something was always a cause for concern, but when it was Six, it was even more worrying.

"Nothing." Six replied, with a surprising amount of force. One rolled his optics exasperatedly.

"Don't lie to me. What were you looking for?" He crossed his arms, shifting his weight onto one leg in a pose that oozed authority. Six looked momentarily guilty, before frowning.

"I'm not looking for anything." Six insisted, the beginnings of a pout forming on his lips. "Really." He added.

One didn't look convinced in the slightest.

"You seemed very distracted last night. Was something the matter?" It wasn't a question he usually asked, but as a leader (well, the it was more of a democracy than a dictatorship now, but he was still in the lead) he supposed he should be a bit more...caring.

A sudden conflict exploded in his mind in the course of a second, which brought back memories of before the machine flashing across his eyes faster than he could see them. He hadn't been caring before. That was...bad. Very bad.

Six looked somewhat surprised, and somewhat suspicious. He eyed One carefully, and when it was clear that One was asking him seriously, he sighed, shoulders sagging slightly.

"My visions are gone."

Of all the strange, weird and utterly crazy things One had expected to come out of Six's mouth, this was not one of them. What did he mean by gone?

"Gone? As in, you aren't getting them any more?" He asked, and Six nodded ruefully, and One wondered just why he was upset.

"Why are you so upset? I thought your visions were too much for you. You weren't able to sleep properly at night because of them." One cocked his head and inspected Six's sad expression. Six stared down at his hands, looking suddenly frustrated.

"Something's coming. Something bad is gonna happen, I can feel it."

One was very much used to Six's strange predictions at this point, but Six had never looked this frustrated in his life. He looked like he was ready to start yelling and One did not want that in the slightest. He supposed he'd have to be sympathetic here, but something didn't seem quite right.

He couldn't deny it, Six's predictions were uncannily accurate. It wasn't as glamorous as it sounded. Six's one biggest, scariest vision was about the machine, but in their normal life, it was just the smaller things. He could finish people's sentences and he'd just know what people were thinking, without them having to explain.

Just last week, he'd wrapped Nine in plastic because he'd seen him fall into an ink puddle and get drenched in one of his dreams.

(The person who'd actually fallen into the puddle was Five, and Six had admitted after that thinking back on it, the person in his dream was missing an eye and he'd gotten the two mixed up. How he'd done that was utterly beyond everybody else, but they didn't question it.)

"So you think something bad is going to happen, and your visions have mysteriously disappeared, leaving you unable to find out just what is going to happen. Is that correct?"

Six nodded. "Yeah. Something really scary is coming for us." He said, and One sighed.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I have doubts about believing you." One admitted. Despite Six's predictions being right more often than not, the lack of a vision or prediction made Six's claim seem delusional, and Six was prone to delusions very often. One felt more inclined to believe Six was imagining it.

But Six actually glared at him! One wasn't quite sure what to say about this. He supposed Six had a right to shoot him dirty looks because he didn't believe him, but to his surprised, Six got back up on his knees and shuffled towards the window.

"You don't believe me. Then what do you think about that?"

One leant over to peer through the crack in the wall at the dimly lit horizon, where the remains of the factory stood...

...and the singular black streak of thick smoke that was streaming out from it.


	4. Chapter 4

One recoiled away from the window instinctively. That place, the factory. It had been out of commission ever since the defeat of the machine; they had blown it up, after all. So just what did that smoke symbolise. Was it the machine's return? No, that's impossible, the machine had been destroyed, hadn't it? Maybe it had crawled back to the factory with what remaining limbs it had.

Fear welled up deep inside One and he shot a look of horror at Six, who looked seemingly unfazed by the looming smoke in the distance, despite being the one to point it out. Did...he know something about this?

"Just what is that?" One croaked out, and Six cocked his head, eyebrows slanted in confusion.

"It's...smoke."

One sighed exasperatedly. "I know that, you little-! I meant, why is there smoke coming out of...of there! Of all places!" He gestured dramatically to the smouldering remains of the factory. Six stared blankly out into the distance, before shrugging.

"I dunno."

One took a step and sank down on Six's bed, eyes vacant, and let his head rest in his hands. "This is happening all over again, isn't it? The machine will come back for us. It'll take us all again." He murmured, weakly.

Six shifted in his spot, staring out at the looming horizon. "No..." He mumbled. "It's not the machine." and One lifted his head, his expression perplexed. "Then what could it possibly be, if not that freakish machine?"

Six's expression suddenly grew frustrated.

"I don't know! Okay?! I can't see a damn thing in my dreams anymore! Something big and scary is coming for us, and I can't see what it is!" He snapped, and One almost physically recoiled. He had never seen Six so mad in either of their admittedly short lives! What was he supposed to do?

One sighed. This was becoming increasingly stressful for him. Between his odd relationship with Two, the never-ending nightmares and a visionless Six, who was apparently becoming increasingly prone to temper tantrums, not to mention the pile of smoking remains out in the distance. Just what was he supposed to do with all that?

He thought on it for a moment. On one hand, he didn't want to warn the others and shove them all into a panicked frenzy, but on the other hand, he didn't want to leave them in the dark when that scary 'something' Six kept mentioning came knocking on their door.

Hah. And people thought being a leader was 'easy'.

He exhaled slowly, and turned to Six. The best way to handle this situation, was most likely Six's way, but without his visions, he couldn't guarantee he knew what to do.

"Six." He began, almost regretting what he was about to say. "What do you suggest we do?" Of course, taking the backseat to a potentially unstable individual was the last thing on One's list, but Six was somehow their best bet, even without the visions.

Six looked incredibly deep in thought. More than One had ever seen before, in fact.

"We can't tell the others. Not yet." He said, firmly. One surprised himself by nodding in agreement. "I thought that much. It's not wise to kick up a fuss." Good to see they were on the same page. Somewhat, anyway.

"We should go and see what happened."

One actually had to register just what he was suggesting, before snapping at him. "You can't be serious. You want to go over there? It's not safe in the slightest!" He chided, and Six had to gall to roll his optics.

"Yeah, but people didn't get anywhere by staying safe all that time." He responded, smoothly. Too smoothly for One's liking. He frowned, disapprovingly.

"I mean, if you had any idea what could be lurking out there, then I may have considered it, but since you are without visions, we are at a disadvantage." He murmured, flashing Six a steely gaze, to which he shrugged at.

"I guess..." It was clear he hadn't much else to say, and frankly, neither did One. Nonetheless, he couldn't just up and leave, there were things to be done. Specifically, about the smoking factory which, he desperately hoped, nobody had seen yet.

And there was the other problem. There was no guarantee that the others were as oblivious as One always thought they were. Seven was always out and about, scouting the area, so any change to the landscape would definitely not go unnoticed. Five was always up in the watchtower, gazing out at the horizon, so he would definitely spot if something was up.

"What if the others find out about...that?" One gestured to the still smoking remains with a tilt of his head, and Six, to his surprise, didn't seem worried in the slightest.

"That's easy. I saw the smoke really early this morning and I knew the others would see it, so I got the twins to keep them occupied for the day." Six explained, and One was...impressed?

"I must admit, that was quite a clever thing to do." He murmured, almost reluctantly, but credit where credit is due. Six, however, didn't seem moved by the compliment.

"I'm going to head out there tonight."

Wait...

...what?

One instinctively bolted up from his spot on the bed, anger fierce on his face. "You can't possibly think I'm going to let you wander the emptiness alone, and at night! There's not a chance you'll be doing such a thing!"

"Then come with me."

Six's face was annoyingly passive, and One's threat didn't seem to strike him as worrisome. One couldn't fathom how obnoxious he thought that was, but he couldn't let the young artist traverse that vast emptiness by himself. It wasn't something a leader would do, not to mention the others would string him up if they learned that he let Six go off on his own.

This was not an ideal situation.

He must've been insane to do this.

"Fine. I'll accompany you, but there will be rules!" He said, sternly, and Six shrugged, mumbling something that sounded like 'naturally' under his breath.

"Firstly, I'm giving you three hours to do this and not a minute longer. Secondly, the moment it gets even remotely dangerous, we are leaving and thirdly, you will not tell a soul about this, you understand? Now, I'll be heading off. I think I'll try and get some sleep before...I can't believe I agreed to this, but I'm doing this to put your mind, and mine, at rest."

Six raised an eyebrow at this. "You still think there's nothing out there?" He looked somewhat annoyed, and One struggled to piece together a response. It wasn't like he didn't believe him, but it just seemed so unlikely.

"I can only hope so..."

* * *

doot doot


	5. Chapter 5

When One woke up, night had fallen outside. He exhaled deeply, trying to catch his breath and wondered why the hell he'd even need to do such a thing. He was essentially a machine with a soul, so why did he get out of breath? Screw that, why did he get nightmares?

As his breath gradually returned to it's normal state, his mind wandered back to what had suddenly pulled him from his dream.

It was that freakish machine again, but this time, it seemed different. It seemed eerily real. More so than normal, anyway.

Let's see...it started off with...him and Six? Well, it wasn't the very beginning of the dream, but he couldn't quite remember that far back. As for him and Six, they were coming back to the library, while the sun rose gradually in the distance. And then-

His thoughts were rudely interrupted by a long shadow cast across the floor and he didn't need to look up to know who it was.

"You're awake."

Six was peeking out from behind the draped fabric that separated One's space from the rest of the library, and One grumbled, tiredly. The lack of sleep was making him more cranky than normal, and was causing him to space out at random moments. At this point, he would even be willing to share a bed with Two if it would grant him just a tiny, tiny moment of peaceful sleep.

Six, much to One's dismay, seemed completely oblivious of his exhaustion. That, or he was purposely ignoring it and One had a sneaking suspicion it was the latter. Christ.

"I'm guessing you're in here for a reason?" One murmured, rubbing the back of his shoulder, trying to dislodge whatever part had twisted itself into a knot. Did he thrash around in his sleep or something? He cursed under his breath, moving his shoulder in rhythmic circles.

"We're going out to the factory, remember?"

One was far too exhausted to offer him a biting response, so he just emitted a grunt of acknowledgement, as he strained to get up on his feet. How the hell was a mechanical doll supposed to feel old age?

He eyed Six, who was rubbing the bolts on his knuckles habitually, looking quite pleased, and he scowled, almost enviously. The kid had a lot of life in him, whereas One was created an old man, tired from the very beginning. He was a prototype, for the rest of them. Nine was the perfect one, while he was a test.

The painful thought lingered in his mind, and he forgot he was prone to expressing his negative emotions freely, so he was met with a worried stare from Six. He dismissively shook his head, and moved to follow Six, who seemed to spring to action.

He wondered how he could keep up with the younger artist. Usually Six never left his spot during the day, but then all of a sudden, he'd get a surge of energy and become oddly hyperactive. Then again, Two was perfectly able to keep up with Five and Nine (at the risk of his knees giving out) and he was much worse for wear than One was. One took pride in that fact. He looked after himself, instead of going out and damaging his already frail body doing strenuous activity that he didn't really enjoy all that much in the first place.

Though he had to admit, there was probably more he could do.

Before he knew it, Six was leading him out into the nippy air of the emptiness. When did he get so carried away with his thoughts? Pff, when did he not get carried away with his thoughts?

Two used to tease him for talking to himself, but One had to point out that he now did the exact same thing when inventing, much to his embarrassment.

A small, ghost of a smile cracked his cold exterior, but Six was too far ahead to catch it. Why was he going so fast? He was going to trip if he wasn't careful, and One had limited knowledge of medical techniques.

He began to quicken his pace, otherwise Six would've began to forcefully drag him towards the remains of the factory, but he still used the time to think. What else happened during that dream?

Well it started with him and Six returning to the factory...which was a little weird, since that's where they were heading, and then...god, everything was just so...blank! He couldn't envision the dream in his mind.

But they were scared. The others, why were they scared? Six was breathless, he could hear and then...a crash. A loud crash. The rest was just patchy blurs in his mind. Oddly enough, he didn't remember anybody getting taken away towards the end of the dream. Just a crash, and then...silence. What the hell was going on inside his head?

He skipped over a small piece of rubble, quite skilfully, and focused his gaze on the number '6' on Six's back. What was up with his visions, anyway? There was no answer as to why his visionary ability had suddenly vanished.

This was all seeming remarkably convenient.

His nightmares acting up, becoming repetitive, only recently, they had began to differ ever so slightly. Six's visions gone, and absolutely nothing being seen in his dreams, either. He wondered if Six felt lost without them.

* * *

Despite One's slow pace, they arrived at the factory after an hour, leaving them two hours (according to One) of time to explore the area.

It looked just as horrifying as One had imagined it would look. Burnt, broken rubble, metal contorted beyond use and fragments of shattered glass lay around, like mechanical carcasses. He'd prefer to spend as less time as was humanly possible here, thank you.

The factory wasn't completely to the ground. There was a large, steel wall opposite them, where the remaining ceiling had sunk towards the floor, creating a kind of metal cave, shrouded with darkness. Something immediately didn't sit right with One, as it always did.

Six immediately began sifting through the rubble, as if he was looking for something. One watched him, questioningly, but didn't bother to ask. Probably a Six thing. Instead, he turned to head the other way, but-

-he let out a sudden inhale, and it felt like he'd been strangled for a split second, as a series of mental images flashed intrusively across his optics. Six looked up from where he was crouched on the ground. One teetered slightly, taking a step backward to regain his balance. Just what was that?

"Are you okay?" Six piped up from behind him, and One didn't turn around. He was still in minor shock from the sudden...whatever that was!

"Something just...something..." He mumbled, incoherently, and Six moved from his spot to see what was wrong. He jumped back when One suddenly whirled around.

"I just saw something. Like a flash!" He said, gesturing vaguely with his hands, and Six cocked his head. "A flash? Like lightning?"

"No, not like lighting, like...pictures. Like the nightmares I've been having, but all in a single second!" He hissed, and Six's optics widened fractionally, but he stayed silent.

When he received no response, One sighed lowly, putting a hand to his head. "Wonderful. I am now ninety percent sure this is post traumatic stress disorder. Perfect." His slanted optics evened out into a tired and mildly displeased look, and he sagged slightly. "Well I'm not surprised, having the soul forcibly sucked from your body is rather traumatic. Don't know why I didn't think of it earlier." He grumbled to himself.

Suddenly, Six grabbed his shoulders, and One winced, feeling the pointed nibs of his fingers digging into his fabric.

"That's not a flashback! Was it the machine?"

One stared blankly. What? What was he on about? The machine?

He thought, silently, before shaking his head, albeit unsurely. "Actually, I don't think it was..." He murmured, and Six forcibly shook his body. "You said it was those nightmares! That thing you keep seeing! Was it that?!"

One was having trouble keeping up with Six at this point, and he glanced side to side in confusion. Was it? That machine he saw wasn't like the one before! It was the one that took them away one by one in his dreams.

"I think so..." He said, raising an eyebrow, and to his surprise, Six backed off, looking metaphorically, very pale.

"Why, what is it?"

"That wasn't a flashback! It wasn't!" Six insisted, his voice growing louder and more hysterical. "You're not traumatised, that wasn't a flashback!"

"Six, what on earth are you talking about?!"

Six grabbed his shoulders once more.

"You've got my visions!"

* * *

shit's about to go down. i'm also kinda game for requests, so even if you're just dropping by to read this, feel free to gimme an idea.


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